


Maybe It's the Washer's Fault

by ALittleBit



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Sharing a Bed, author has no idea what she's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5527751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALittleBit/pseuds/ALittleBit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "You're the asshole who broke the washer machine at three in the morning and I'm the idiot who locked myself out when I went to check what all the noise was about" AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe It's the Washer's Fault

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terrenis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrenis/gifts).



> Written for Terrenis for the WinterIron Holiday Gift Exchange; sorry it's late!!!  
> I'd just like to point out that I don't understand how washers work, so be prepared for some straight bullshit.  
> The prompt was fluff and AUs, and this turned out to be more snark than fluff, but..... I hope you enjoy!

Bucky knew there were perks to living next to the laundry room, like having the shortest distance to lug everything around, and if he forgot something (like the detergent, which he basically never remembered on the first try) then he didn’t have to run up a few flights of stairs just to grab it.

At the moment though, all he could think of was how he’d rather live on the seventh floor. There was someone swearing at the machines, crystal clear despite the concrete wall separating them from Bucky’s bedroom. Bucky stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, hoping that they’d just go away on their own, but if anything, they just got louder.

As he resigned himself to finding his headphones, there was a sudden clash from the other side of the wall, and a quickly-cut off yelp.

Bucky rolled out of bed, slipping on his shower shoes as he snuck out of the room. Steve was a heavy sleeper when it came to noise, but too much light and the guy would wake up without a problem, so Bucky had quickly learned how to slide out of the room without opening the door more than necessary.

He stopped in the doorway of the laundry room to take in the situation. There were suds covering half of the floor, slowly seeping towards Bucky, and a rather drenched, pissed off brunet sitting in the puddle, a comforter half-out of the washer. He was wearing a pair of Captain America boxers and a tank top, leaving his muscles on display for Bucky to ogle.

There was a steady stream of what Bucky assumed was swears coming from him as he got back to his feet, yanking at his comforter for a few seconds before giving up with a sigh.

Bucky took this opportunity to clear his throat, biting back a smile when the guy whipped around to stare, wide-eyed, barely managing to not jump at the sound.

“Uh…. Hi. This is embarrassing.”

He leaned casually against the washer, paying no mind to the fact that he was now soaked.

Bucky just raised an eyebrow and asked dryly, “Did you really manage to break the only working washing machine in the dorm?”

“No!” The guy replied, jumping up from his more relaxed pose, before glancing back at the washer. “Well, maybe. But I can fix it!”

He started to examine the washer more in depth; after a couple minutes, he started explaining what was wrong with it. Bucky, with his workman’s understanding of most household appliances, didn’t know many of the terms the guy was using—something about an agitator and the coupler, and some broken sensors.

Bucky stepped closer to look inside as well, and found that the comforter—a piece of it, at least—had been sucked into the back of the washer, probably stuck in the water hoses. The water on the floor was likely caused by a safety measure doing its thing, keeping the motor dry when the hoses couldn’t take in the water.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t entirely your fault,” Bucky conceded, “These things are probably as old as us.”

The guy just pouted at him and muttered, “I told you I didn’t break it,” before going back to inspecting the machine. “You wouldn’t happen to have some tools with you, would you?”

“I’ve only got one tool on me, and it’s not gonna help fix the washer.”

 _Shit_. The other guy eyed Bucky out of the corner of his eye, a smirk playing on his lips, but before he could reply, Bucky blurted, “Okay, redo, it’s way too early for me to be talking. I think I’ve got most of the basics in my room. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky beat a strategic retreat back towards his room, turning the handle and— _thunk_.

\--and knocking his head on the door, apparently, since he’d forgotten to unlock it when he walked out. _Fuck_. He shivered, finally noticing that for all his ogling of the mysterious laundry guy, Bucky wasn’t wearing much, either—in fact, at least the other guy was wearing a shirt.

He took a moment to collect himself, leaning against the door and just breathing, before turning back towards the laundry room.

The other guy was leaning in the doorway, watching Bucky in amusement. “I guess, since we’re going to be sitting around out here for a while, I should introduce myself. I’m Tony. Sorry for waking you, I guess.”

Bucky just sighed. “I guess this night could’ve been worse. I’m Bucky.” At Tony’s confused expression, Bucky shrugged and clarified, “I could’ve been wearing superhero boxers. I can’t say the same to you.”

Tony scoffed, staring at Bucky in disbelief. “I’ll have you know I’m a _proud_ wearer of Captain America underwear—I’ve got some with the Hulk on them, too! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying perfectly good entertainment just because the stigma of a few. Comic books aren’t something to be ashamed of, they’re art! People put countless hours into them, and—“

“And you’re a proud nerd, I get it. It’s still a pretty bold move to go walking through a dorm in them,” Bucky cut him off.

“Says the guy wearing CatDog boxers? Oh my god, I didn’t even know those were a thing—there’s a market for that?”

Bucky found himself blushing. “They were a gift! They’re _ironic_!” He hissed back.

“Hey, I’m not the one who started this whole judgey-feely thing,” Tony put his hands off, clearly letting the subject go. “And at least I put on a shirt.”

“And at least _I_ didn’t wake somebody up at three in the morning by breaking shit—I have class in six hours!”

At his outburst, Tony seemed to deflate a little. “Shit, I’m sorry man; Pepper let me stay over since my roommate’s got a girl over and Nat’s out for the week but then she got her period and I said I’d wash the blanket since she’s got an 8 a.m. and then _this_ and now you’re locked out because of me… Yeah, I’m an asshole.”

They sat in the hall in an awkward silence for another moment; Bucky knew Steve wouldn’t be waking up until his alarm went off, and though the rooms were nice and toasty, the hallways were definitely not. He could sleep in the lounge….? But then the cleaning crew would find him, and it’s hard to explain the lack of clothes when you can’t even use alcohol as an excuse.

He sighed. “I can just—I have a buddy over in Linsley, I can just go sleep over there.” Sam was more Steve’s friend than Bucky’s, but he’s made it abundantly clear that he was willing to help either of them out, and he had a pretty comfy couch.

As he stood to go, Tony’s head shot up. “Wait, what? Are you seriously trying to tell me that you’re gonna walk outside in your _boxers?_ Dude, it’s below freezing out!”

Bucky stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to come up with an alternative, but was met with silence. “It’s not like I can sleep in the lounge, and it’s too cold to sit in the hall for another three hours—do you have a better idea?”

“Well, you could come sleep with me.” Tony offered. They locked eyes for a few seconds before he hastily added, “I mean, not _like that_ , we’d be sharing Pepper’s bed, and she definitely wouldn’t appreciate that—believe me, I’ve learned—but I mean, it’s better than walking around campus in your underwear. I’d hope.”

Bucky grinned a little in relief; he wasn’t sure how Sam would take it if he just showed up in front of his door clad only in boxers, but he didn’t really want to find out. Tony, for all that he was a complete geek, didn’t seem like he would try to murder him. And he was hot. That was definitely a plus.

“I think that’d be nice.”

They walked up a few flights to Tony’s (Pepper’s) room mostly in silence, which was fine with Bucky. Tony seemed fidgety, like he was trying to find something to say, but stayed silent after telling him a bit about Pepper. They walked into the room as quietly as they could, and Tony pointed towards the bed closest to the door to indicate Pepper, sound asleep. The other bed was slightly unmade, and missing a comforter.

“Sorry,” Tony whispered, “all the sheets and stuff are clean, I swear.”

Bucky shrugged it off. “At this point, I’m willing to sleep on the floor. At least it’s warm in here.”

Tony climbed onto the bed first, pressing himself against the wall to leave Bucky more space, but even with that they wound up breathing the same air.

They spent a few minutes pretending they weren’t both fidgeting, uncomfortably trying not to invade the other’s space, before Bucky gave up.

“Okay, seriously, you’ve seen me in nothing but underwear all night. If cuddling to conserve space is crossing a line for you, then this is gonna be a long night for both of us,” he whispered, relaxing into the bed and Tony’s space.

Tony breathed what sounded like, “Oh thank god,” before relaxing too, and they spent a few more seconds fidgeting before they were both actually comfortable. Tony ended up with one leg hanging off the edge of the bed behind Bucky, and they were both basically hugging each other, Tony’s head resting on Bucky’s chest. “I appreciate the sentiment, but maybe next time don’t remind me I’ve got a hot guy cuddling me in _nothing but his underwear_ if you don’t want me to cross a line.”

Bucky snorted, and managed to mutter “Maybe I should keep reminding you,” before falling asleep.

~*~*~

He woke up sweatier than he’d ever been, hair tickling his nose, but he still found himself shutting his eyes again, ignoring the sun creeping through the windows.

What felt like a couple of seconds later, someone was poking him in the cheek.

“Hey, Bucky, I think you missed your class. Also, you got drool in my hair.”

Bucky opened his eyes to see Tony, barely awake himself and still half-draped over Bucky, his hand poised to keep poking Bucky in the face. Bucky swatted it away, closing his eyes again.

“Bucky. Buck. Buckaroo. Pepper said she’d kill me if I had a naked guy in her bed again, and I gotta say, you look pretty naked from here. I’m too pretty to die, Bucky.”

He didn’t answer.

“What can I bribe you with? Not sex—again, Pepper would kill me—food? You gotta like food, right? Coffee? We could go to Starbucks, I always appreciate a nice dose of caffeine. Or dinner, maybe you’re more of a delayed gratification kind of guy. There’s that Italian place down the street. C’mon, there’s no way that’s not appealing to you.” This time, Tony poked his stomach.

Bucky squirmed right off the bed before he even opened his eyes properly.

He sat up enough to glare at Tony and replied, “You’re lucky I like Italian. And that that class wasn’t mandatory.”

“Oh, look! You’re up! Let’s go grab lunch; I’m starving.” Tony rolled out of the bed, graceful as you please, and started digging through a duffle in the corner of the room. He glanced back at Bucky, still on the floor but admiring the new view, and asked, “Do you need some clothes? A shirt, at least?”

Bucky looked up to Tony’s shoulders, but just eyeballing it made it clear that he’d probably end up stretching any of his shirts. And anyway, Steve was probably awake, and hopefully the door was unlocked by now.

“Nah. I’m gonna go back to my room, though, see if I can get in to find some clothes that’ll actually fit me.” He got up, spent a minute searching for his shower shoes, and turned back to Tony.

“This lunch doesn’t mean you’re getting out of taking me to dinner, you know.”

Tony smirked. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> Uh... Ta da?  
> Please let me know how you feel about this!  
> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
